


sailor

by tsukum



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Extended Metaphors, M/M, Prose Poem, im gay and i hate myentire life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukum/pseuds/tsukum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hurricane in a bag, seastorm with death in his waves; Killua, Killua, even when your storm gets loose from you, Gon will make it through okay. He will keep you safe, even.</p><p>(Hypershort, no capitalization, prose poetry, extended metaphors, Killua, Kirugon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	sailor

**Author's Note:**

> at least it's not porn, right
> 
> my tumblr url is ukeshit now. things happened. anyway, i love you all and i hope this has enough music in it to not matter that it doesn't make complete sense. 
> 
> the metaphor of "storm with skin" didn't start with me, it's... something that's been floating around, and i'm pretty sure i'm not even the first person to apply it to killua. so.

killua's always been a lightning storm waiting to get loose, there's always been thunderclouds in his ribcage in place of a heart. (he is no less caring for it; he is a million times more internally volatile for it;) it started brewing with the first time his own family tortured him and it's never gone away. he's always churning on the inside, rain pounding against his bones, so he is thankful to his skin for holding it all inside of him, thankful to his skin for not splitting with the sheer force and letting everything that killua is float away.

gon is going to free the storm.

and when killua's cocoon of a body is gone and all that is left is the lightning and wind and the rain and the fear, the howls of the gusts forming words like  _only_ and  _hand-hold_ and  _lifeline_ and  _please_ , gon will guide his sailboat through it, navigating by his memory of the stars, the mist and the seafoam and the waves on the deck, gon exhilarated and in love and not at all scared even though he should be-- _  
_

and killua was the storm, but now he isn't. he is a tired and sad boy with thin bones. his eyes are red from crying. he falls into gon's arms almost like there is a countdown somewhere; three, two, one.

gon holds him close.


End file.
